Sweet Potato Pie
by Sky-Goddess-SK
Summary: *Co-authored by SORA and ATHENA MASTERSON* The Shuffles meet for the American tradition of Thanksgiving. This year, it's Shirley's turn in the kitchen - but when Chibodee takes Sai up on a dare, the turkey won't be the only thing steaming! *FINISHED!!*
1. The Dare

"I've always searched those same eyes, those same dreams, my friend…"

"FRIENDS"

HOUSHIN ENGI ("SOUL HUNTER")

"Chibodee – get the door!" Shirley yelled at me.

I hauled my lazy ass up off of the living room sofa and ambled through the foyer to the front door.  I threw the door open, only to come face to face with…Argo Gulskii's barrel of a chest.

"Greetings," I stared playfully at the center of his black, button-down-collared shirt.  "What happened to the bomb?"

"I took it off of him a year ago, Crocket," Natasha said briskly; I glanced over at her and smiled winningly.

"He knows that, Natasha," Argo snorted.  "He's just being a pain."

"And I've been wonderin' ever since, how Natasha gets you to do what she wants," I turned my smile onto Argo, who stared down at me with his typical, expressionless stoicism.

"Don't _even_ go there," Argo's expression changed into a disapproving scowl.

"Do you mind if we come inside, mon ami, or must we languish out here in the cold?" George's red head bobbed into view over Natasha's shoulder.

"Nope," I countered cheerfully.  "Not 'til ya'll say the magic word."

"Let them in, silly!" Cath suddenly appeared at my side, elbowing me out of the way.

"We're sorry," Bunny murmured as Argo, Natasha, Marie Louise, and George filed in through the doorway.  "He's in one of his '_moods_' today," she gave me a reprimanding look.

"If you mean, ma'am, that he's acting like a complete and disreputable ruffian, then I ask you, when isn't he?" George sniffed pompously, helping his princess out of her thick, woolen coat.

"Aww, come on, guys," I whined playfully.  "You know I's just playin'."

"Knock it off, Chibodee," Cath rolled her eyes.  "'Cute' doesn't suite you."

"All right!" Sai bounded into view.  "Everyone's here!"

"Domon and Rain are already here?" Marie Louise blinked in surprise.

"Yeah – they've been here for about a half hour," I explained, shoving my hands into my pockets.  "Sai and Cecil got here about an hour ago."

"You four come together?" Sai demanded of Argo, who nodded in confirmation.

"Everyone here?" Shirley poked her head into the foyer, which was a little cramped by that time.

She took a brief head count, and then nodded her head in absent approval.

"Good – you guys go find something to do," she ordered briskly, bustling in and shooing Sai, Argo, George, and I out into the living room.  "Ladies – we've got things to discuss."

"Where?" Natasha glanced into the living room, and, only seeing Domon, turned toward my redheaded assistant in puzzlement.  "Where's Rain and Cecil?"

"In the kitchen," Shirley pointed to the dining room and the swinging kitchen door beyond.

"Watcha' all gotta' talk 'bout anyway?" I drawled, tugging on Shirley's short attempt at a French Braid.

"Unlike you five," she pointed to me and the rest of the Shuffles.  "We women have _work_ to do!"

"Oookay," I shrugged nonchalantly and watched as Sai lead Russia and French into the living room.

Shirley met my eyes and she paused momentarily before sniffing indignantly and ushering Marie and Natasha toward the kitchen.  I turned, as if to follow George into the living room, but I stopped just before leaving the foyer and watched as Shirley sashayed into the kitchen.

_Damn!  But I never get tired of looking at that woman_, I grinned, certain that my fiery "girl" would have my head if she ever knew I thought that.

"'Ey, Bro!  You comin', or what?" Sai called impatiently from his perch on the back of the couch.

The kitchen door swung shut at that moment, cutting Shirley's long legs from view.  Grinning once again, I shrugged, yawned, and joined the rest of the guys in the living room.  I'd be sure to see more of Shirley later, around the Thanksgiving dinner table.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

I patted at my hair absently, a little peeved to find more than a few strands loose.  Damn, I'd gotten up earlier than I needed to just to make sure I could keep my hair neat and out of my face.  And what has to happen?  _He_** had to go and yank on it.  "Why does he have to be such a pain?" I muttered aloud.**

Natasha gave me one of her sly smiles and asked, "Could such a question have to do with Chibodee Crocket?"

I felt heat rush to my face.  I hadn't meant to say anything out loud.

Bunny saved me though when she grinned and said, "Oh, that's just his way.  He does it because we're his girls.  Shirley, that's the only reason he's such a pain, you know that."

She turned away before I could glare at her.

I wonder what the others would think if they knew how much I hated that phrase, 'his girls.'  It made me think he had one waiting for him wherever he went, though, with his looks it probably wouldn't be hard to believe.  Which only made my feelings on the subject that much worse.  I slapped myself mentally.  I didn't need to think about him that way.  That was the last thing I needed on my mind.

Once we were in the kitchen, I found more than enough to banish Chibodee from my thoughts.  Rain and Cecil were busy cleaning potatoes and Janet was hovering around the turkey, cleaning it out.  As much as I loved to cook, I hated gutting a turkey.  Bleh – just the thought of touching a turkey neck was making me ill.  

I turned to Natasha and asked, "Is there anything you'd like to make especially for this, Natasha?  I'm sorry, I'm not too familiar with Russian traditions."

She smiled and slid her coat off her shoulders.

Folding it over the back of an empty chair she said, "This is your home, your traditions will be used.  Perhaps Christmas will be in Russia and I can show you then."  She folded her arms and said, "Whatever you'd like me to do, I'll happily comply."

I was always a bit taken by how the Neo-Russians spoke.  Sort of like George, really.

Remembering the Neo-Frenchman, I turned to Marie Louise.  "What would you like to do?"

She blushed. 

"I may be a princess, but I can still cook.  I can help Janet with the turkey, if that's all right?"  

Janet bobbed her head appreciatively.

"Any help is welcome, this thing is huge!"  

It had to be.  We had Argo and Sai with us.  Then again, Chibodee could eat us out of house and home if we let him.  My mind drifted for a moment.  I couldn't help but wonder how it would be if it were just the two of us tonight.  Not that I didn't love the other Shuffles and the other girls, but . . . 

_Not again!_  I nearly growled out loud.  I couldn't keep doing this.

I had Natasha fix a salad and check on the bread dough that was rising.

I went over to Rain and Cecil and said, "When you're done with the regular potatoes, go ahead and clean the sweet potatoes, but leave those to me.  I'm making my family's recipe of sweet potato pie.  So after they're clean, hands off," I said sternly, winking at Cecil.

She giggled.

"You're sure taking this holiday seriously, Shirley.  I'd almost think you had a stake in how it turned out."

I turned my head, hoping to keep my reaction hidden.  Maybe I was going a bit overboard.  After all, I'd had to drag the other three out of bed at 6 just to make sure we had all that we needed.  Since then, I'd been lording over the kitchen like a drill sergeant.  None of them could be all that happy about it.  And, much as I hated to admit it, I wanted to be the one in control of it all.  Maybe, that way, if it went well, Chibodee would . . .

_Aargh__!  Again with those thoughts! _ I'd almost think my mind was out to get me.

I laughed shakily at Cecil's comment, "I just want everything to go smooth.  Thanksgiving was a big thing in my family.  And since you're all my current family, it only fits that I keep up with that, don't you think?"

Cecil grinned.

"Whatever you're reasons, I'm sure it'll be fine.  I can't wait to taste this pie of yours too!"

She giggled again before turning back to the sink of potatoes.

I sure did like her.  Sai had found a real keeper, cliché as it sounded.  What I found more amusing was how shy he was around her sometimes.  Ah, young love.  I caught myself in time.  No telling how long it would take me to start thinking about a certain Gundam fighter.  Damn, too late.

I wandered over to Janet and Marie Louise.  Cath was off in the garage, checking on our beverage supplies.  They'd probably vanish by the end of the night.  We had put out a fortune for this holiday.  Who knew how much money it would take to feed five men?  Even Sai, our smallest fighter, could pack away enough to feed us for a week.  

I picked up a few basil leaves and slit the skin of the turkey.

Sliding the fragrant leaves under the clammy skin I said, "Cut up some apples and grab a few clumps of basil for the stuffing.  It makes a really aromatic turkey."

I couldn't help grinning.

"It was my mom's special trick."

Janet nodded.

"Sure.  I'll do that right now."  

I puttered around a bit more.  I took the rest of the apples and some other fruit and cobbled together a fruit salad.  By the time I was done, the potatoes were prepped, the turkey was beginning to cook and the girls were looking at me expectantly.

I sucked some of the cherry juice from my fingers and said, "There isn't much more that needs to be done.  At least, not for a few hours until the turkey is nearly ready.  Why don't you all join the boys?  I need the kitchen empty to make my pie.  Secrets and all," I added with a wink.

Rain dried her hands off and said, "We could take some treats to the boys.  And then we'll leave you to your magic, Shirley."

I had made a cheese ball the day before and a few trays of veggies, which the others happily carted out.  They wouldn't like me now, anyway.  Once I got it in my mind to make something, I couldn't stand to have anyone around me.  For the most part, they always managed to get in the way.  It wasn't their fault, I think, in a way I made it impossible for them not to be.  I moved like a whirlwind since I tended to do everything at once, rather than spacing out my different preps.  

With a sigh, I turned back to the sink and began to make my mother's pie.  Actually, two pies.  Who knew how much this crew would eat? 

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

"Aw…come on, Bro!  This is gettin' borin'," Sai Sici rocked back in his chair and yawned.

"Oui," George agreed dryly.  "It's beginning to get extremely _predictable_," he glared daggers at me.

"Hey, now!" I threw my cards on the table and my hands in the air.  "I can't help it!  I'm just lucky."

I grinned, fully believing what I said.  _I_ couldn't help the fact that I kept winning.  It just wasn't a good night for the rest of them.  But a small part of me could sympathize with the others – the game _was_ getting kinda' boring.  I wanted a challenge.

"If I didn't know any better, Chibodee, I'd say you were hiding a few aces up your sleeve," Domon grumbled sourly, eyeing the three aces that I had thrown on the table.

"Impossible," Argo growled.  "I've frisked him – _twice_."

"And please don't make it a third time," I scowled at the Neo-Russian who kept a neutral position in the poker game as the shuffler.  "Once was bad enough."

Not that I held anything against Argo, but I didn't really like a man – under _any_ circumstances – running his hands over me and patting my back pockets.

_Now, if it were Shirley, that'd be a totally different story,_ I thought smugly; I wouldn't object to her friskin' me in the least.  _She could do it as many times as she pleased._

Of course, such a thought was pure fantasy on my part.  After eight years together, I knew my girls as well as any man could understand a group of women, and I knew that not one of them held any kind of romantic interest in me.  And I didn't hold any toward them…except for Shirley, of course.  I'd had a thing for her since the first time I had run into her as the leader of their little shuttle-stowaway group.  In fact, the second most important reason that I had saved their pretty, collective tushes was _because_ of my immediate fascination with Shirley.

I'd sooner die that admit it – mostly because I knew that if I _did_ admit my feelings, I would die…by Shirley's hand.  But I had always loved that bright, wild red hair, those devious, playful green eyes, and those curving, tempting lips.  But _damn_, if she didn't have enough sass to make up for every woman in the history of mankind.  She was the one person who could put me in place with just a word or a look; strangely enough, I loved her for it.

The woman drove me crazy – with admiration, raw desire, and lovesick pining.  However, I knew she was far out of my league – she deserved a man who'd take care of her a hell of a lot better than I could.  I sighed wistfully; I hoped the day never came when another man would steal her away from my life.

"Are you feeling well, Chibodee?" George's voice broke me out of my reverie.

"Huh?" I glanced up sharply, feeling remarkably foolish, and finding that the rest of the Shuffles were look at me _very_ oddly.

"If you're done daydreamin', Bro, I've got a proposition to make," Sai cocked an eyebrow, staring at me with an expression that bordered dangerously on a grin.

"Shoot," I forced my voice to be cheerfully devil-may-care, gathering my cards and passing them to Argo to be reshuffled.

"I say we raise the stakes a teensy bit," Chinese's face finally _did_ break out in a disturbingly devious smirk.

"Okay," I glanced at Domon and George; they nodded their consent and my own curiosity won out.  "What's up?"

"Here's the deal," Sai leaned toward me, his eyes dancing mischievously.  "Let's forget the poker chips an' let's just an' me play."

"Uh…sure," I cocked an eyebrow of my own.  "But why you an' me?"

"'Cause you keep drawing aces," Sai shrugged and lifted his right hand with a cheeky smile.  "An' I'm the Ace in our little deck."

"Sounds fair to me," I grunted and leaned back in my chair, my arms folded over my chest.

"So what's the new stakes?" Domon sounded a bit relieved that he wouldn't have to be counted into Sai's new scheme.

"Let's make it interesting," Sai paused for a moment, sucking on his tooth.

My eyes drifted about the room while he thought.  After Shirley had shooed us all into the living room, I had suggested a poker game and we had relocated to the basement, where I kept a sort of game room.  It was a bit hodge-podge and needed a good cleaning, but I was never one to pick up after myself and this was the one place in the whole house that the girls _didn't_ bother with.

I yawned – loudly – to let Sai know that I was getting a bit tired of sitting around and waiting for him to make up his mind.  I decided that when we were done with our little round, that it wouldn't be a bad idea for us all to go into the adjourning gym and work up a good appetite.

_Wouldn't want to let Shirley's fabulous food to go to waste,_ I grinned secretly.

"I've got it!" Sai announced with great enthusiasm.

"'Bout time," I reencountered with not-so-great enthusiasm.

"Whoever loses this game has to spend the rest of the morning with Shirley."

"In the kitchen?" George blinked in surprise.

"In the kitchen," Sai confirmed with an evil little wink in my direction.

"Thank the fates you two counted _me_ out of this," Domon chuckled.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek – Sai was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.

_What the hell,_ I decided.  _I feel sorry for him.  Shirley turns into a female tiger when she has run of the kitchen._

"Sure," I finally grinned, as cocky as ever.  "I hope Cecil kicks your ass for this stunt – after Shirley's done with it, that is."

Fifteen minutes later, Argo and Domon dragged me – kicking and begging for my life – up the basement stairs, through the living room, and past Marie Louise, Rain, Bunny, Cath, Janet, and Natasha (who all watched us with puzzled amazement).  Then, with a little snicker, Sai shoved me through the kitchen door; I tripped and fell flat on my face.

When I lifted my face with a groan, I found myself staring at a pair of pale, perfect feet and ten, red-painted toenails.  I didn't even bother looking up the length of those slim legs.  I knew what I faced.

I had just entered the tigress' den.


	2. The Stakes Are High

"…Those tears of the past and laughter, that will come…"

"FRIENDS"

HOUSHIN ENGI ("SOUL HUNTER")

I had just finished dicing up the sweet potatoes and dumping them into a steel mixing bowl when a loud curse and a crash caught my attention.  I jumped and spun, startled by the sudden noise.  I'd been so intent on my cooking that I hadn't heard much of anything.  As far as I knew, nobody was even in the house.  Once I saw the cause of the noise, I wrinkled my nose.

Chibodee rubbed his forehead and sat up, grumbling.

He had such a dopey expression on his face I almost didn't get angry with him.  Almost.

"Chibodee!  What the hell do you mean scaring me like that?  And what are you doing in here?" I stamped my foot, belatedly realizing I had no shoes on.

A foot slapping on the floor sounds a lot less menacing than the sole of a shoe.

Chibodee gave me that grin of his and I had to fight the urge to smile.

"Just thought I'd see what you're up to," he stood and stretched.  "Anythin' I can snack on?"

I frowned.  Okay…if he was going to try and interrupt me, it would be a hell of a lot easier to get angry.

"No, of course not.  Why don't you go outside and bug everyone else.  The girls took some food out there, or did you already manage to eat that?"

He tweaked my nose playfully and drawled, "'Course we did.  Can't let your food go to waste, can we?"

I swatted at his hand and turned away.

I added a few more ingredients to my mixing bowl and said, "If you insist on staying in here, I suggest you stay put.  I don't need you in my way."

I let out an involuntary gasp when he rested his chin on my shoulder.  

_Oh, God.  He smells like spices.  Damn him._

I tried to control my breathing but I could barely even focus on what I was doing.

"Watcha makin'?" he asked.

"Sweet potato pie," I murmured.

Oh, this was far too nice.  I could feel the heat of his chest pressing against me.

_Back off, back off, back off, I begged.  __Dammit, move before I do something._

With relief, he stepped away, leaning against the counter.  

"Sweet potato pie?" he repeated, using a very thick southern accent.

He grinned.

"You're not from the South, you've got no accent.  Why wouldja make that?"

I swatted at his hand when it reached for some of the cut pieces.

I picked up a hand mixer and said loftily, "I _am_ from the South.  My accent disappeared a long time ago."

I turned on the mixer, hoping to drown out any more comments from him.  After a while though, I turned off the mixer.

With a ragged sigh I snapped, "What now?"

He hadn't taken his eyes from me; it was becoming unnerving.  Proof positive of how much I hated having others in the kitchen with me.  This was my sanctuary.  The last thing I needed was a guy like Chibodee staring at me.  _Especially_ Chibodee.  

"Oh, nothin'.  Just wonderin' if what they say about Southern women is true."

I could have sworn that after he said that he looked like he'd just seen Death.  Whatever it was I thought I saw vanished quickly, though, replaced by his cocky smile.

Oh, this was too much.  Rather than get angry, I decided to get even.  I smiled at him and asked innocently.

"And just what is it they say about Southern women?"

I think that threw him off his game.  He arched an eyebrow and spoke evenly.

"That there's nothin' on earth like the passion of a Southern woman."

"Really?" I leaned close and trailed my fingers over his chest.  "Passion's the one thing we Southerners pride ourselves on."  Oh, God, this was priceless.  He looked like he'd just been knocked out.  His mouth had dropped open and he was frozen.  If I'd known this was all it took to get him to shut up, I'd have done it a long time ago.  

I gripped his chin in my thumb and forefinger and dropped my voice to a husky whisper.

"For instance, do you know what my passion is?"

He shook his head mutely.  I almost giggled.  I could get use to doing this.  He was like putty.  But, in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think how much I wished that this were for real.  I was so close to his mouth right now, I could kiss him if I wanted.  That is, if I knew it'd be appreciated.  As far as I knew, he'd only start to laugh and tease me again.  

I brought my mind back to my game and said, "My passion . . . well . . . it happens to be..." I leaned close to his ear and shouted, "_cooking!"_

He jumped and swore, rubbing at his ear.

"Damn, Shirley!  Was that necessary?"

I planted my hands on my hips.

"Yes, it was.  Now, get out of my kitchen so I can get this done."

He glanced at the kitchen door and shook his head.

"Nope, those guys are boring, you're more fun."

I hesitated.

_Was I more fun because of what I'd just done or at all other times?_

That was not a thought I wanted to dive into.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Being combative was a better bet, anyhow.  He glared at me.

"Hey, if you're gonna get all huffy about it I won't give ya anymore compliments."

I picked up a wooden spoon and shook it at him.

"Just stay quiet and out of my way and I won't have to hurt you.  Got it?"

He grinned again.

"What'll I get if I behave?"

I frowned at him.

"Considering that you can't do that, there's nothing I can give you," I shook my head and turned back to my mix.

It was almost ready.  It just had to be blended a bit more and then baked to perfection.

He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.  I fought a shiver.  Damn him.  Just having him around was trying my resolve.  I'd love nothing more than to have him touch me again, to feel those hands of his against my skin.  But I was the last woman he'd want.  I'd seen the kinds of girls he'd gone out with.  I wasn't one of them.  

_Dammit, stop doing things like that! I swore; I could feel my heart pounding._

"What now?" my voice broke slightly, much to my annoyance.

He'd be hard-pressed not to notice it.  He gestured at me innocently.

"It was in your face, just helpin' out.  I can help ya know."

I turned away and mixed the potatoes a bit more.  Once that was finished, I poured the mixture into two empty piecrusts.  I picked them up and walked over to the stove.

Pausing beside the oven I said, "If you want to help, stay out of the way.  How many times do I have to tell you that?"

I opened the stove and slid them in.  Hiding my face from view I squinched my eyes shut.

_This is not going to be easy, I thought._

If he was insisting on spending the entire morning in the kitchen, I was in for a hell of a time.

_Why me? I moaned. _

I shut the door and turned back to my personal hell . . . or heaven; it was a bit of a toss-up at the moment.

_Those eyes will be the death of me, I decided as I caught their glittering gaze.  __I'm in such trouble. _

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

I could tell that I had unnerved her.  The sudden realization surprised me, for some odd reason – why the hell would my presence be a distraction to her?  Then I remembered that not all cooks were like Sai Sici.

_I'm in her way...why wouldn't I be distracting? that didn't sit well with me._

I wanted her to find me distracting for far different reasons than that I was encroaching on her "personal" space.  Maybe that's why I was acting like such a goof ball.  Even _I didn't know why I was so openly flirting with her._

_If she even realizes that I'm flirting with her, I grumbled inwardly as I leaned against a nearby counter corner._

I got the distinct impression that Shirley only thought that I was being my usual pain-in-the-ass self.  As far as I could tell, she didn't understand that I was trying to communicate something _much different to her.  Now that I was in the kitchen and it didn't look like Shirley was going to make me join the turkey, I was beginning to enjoy the fact that we were alone for an indefinite period of time._

But I could tell that my secret triumph was distinctly one-sided.  But, still...

I couldn't forget the way she had walked up so close to me, running her nails gently over my chest.  God!  That had felt like fire – I had been so dreadfully disappointed when she had pulled away.  And I wasn't too happy about her getting my hopes up by yelling in my ear.

_Passion is her cooking...damn right, I stewed inwardly as I watched her stick the pie pans into the oven._

I couldn't help wondering if she had _other passions.  Ones that I could engage more actively in, instead of sitting passively on the sidelines and watching her cook._

She turned to face me briefly and then turned toward the counter, drumming her fingers lightly on the cutting board.  Was it just me, or did she seem uncertain as to what she should do next?

"Need any help?" I offered for about the fourth time.

"No," she glanced sharply at me and then seemed to remember what was next on her agenda.

She turned on her heel and sashayed to one of the cupboards, bending down and pulling out a large sack of flour and another mixing bowl.  I knew it was incredibly naughty of me, but I couldn't help admire the "view" – what man with eyes could possibly ignore those legs and thighs?

_Damn her, I thought, shifting a bit uncomfortably as I watched her then reach up – offering me a perfect view of her creamy midriff – and lift down a measuring cup and rolling pin from an overhead cabinet.  __Why couldn't she just wear something baggy and formless?_

Even though she was going to slave in the kitchen for most of the day, Shirley had still dressed in her nicest (and tightest, might I add) pair of jeans and a cute little green tank top that was way too low in the front and far too short to be anything _but distracting._

I was beginning to get horribly uncomfortable with the awkward silence that had fallen between us.  I bit on my thumb, trying to figure out a way to liven things up – without getting whacked over the head with the rolling pin.

"Whatcha' makin'?" I tried to do things the old-fashioned way and open up the channels of communication in a more covert, acceptable way.

"Biscuits," she said – a bit stiffly, I thought – as she cracked eggs on the side of the bowl and mixed them into the flour.

_This is going absolutely nowhere, I frowned slightly; my situation wasn't so fun anymore._

So I decided to take a big risk.  Giving into my overwhelming desire to feel her body pressed against mine, I waited, a faint smirk on my face, as she finished mixing her dough and then turned away from the counter, heading for the refrigerator a few feet away.

_Bingo! I thought triumphantly and pushed myself away from the corner._

I bounded quickly across the room, grabbed her around the waist, and playfully kissed her ear.

"Gotcha'," I announced smugly; I noticed that she had become _very still.  "Now, how come I never knew you was a Southerner before?"_

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

I went rigid.  _What the hell is he doing?  I could barely even think.  _

Lucky me, my tank top had ridden up a bit on my waist and I could feel the warmth of his arms against my skin.  That in itself might not have been such a problem but then he kissed me, even if it was just my ear.  

His question finally registered and with a forced voice I said, "You've never asked about my past.  Why should I volunteer?"  

Okay, I admit that was a bit harsh, but dammit!  If he'd let me go I _might just be a bit more civil.  Couldn't he see how much this hurt?  How this was nothing but play to him and everything to me?_

His arms tightened and his warm breath moved past my cheek.  I nearly melted; my knees were beginning to tremble, much to my annoyance.

"Thought we were family?  Family don't keep secrets."

_Oh, yes they do, I thought.  I nudged him with an elbow, hitting him in the stomach.  "Family or not, __you never asked," I repeated._

He finally released me and I turned my head slightly, afraid of what I'd see.  A grin maybe?  That cocky smirk?  Neither of which I wanted to see.  But, was it my imagination or did he actually seem hurt?

He recovered quickly and tugged on my braid again.  "C'mon, you've got no reason to keep a thing from me, you know that."

I smacked him in the arm, a little harder than I intended.  "You are trying my patience, Chibodee.  One more little stunt from you and I'll punt you out the door."

I turned back to the fridge and dug out the milk and butter.  Cooking would keep him off my mind.  If I dove back into cooking, he'd have no chance to bother me.  I wouldn't start missing the warmth of his body against my back, or the softness of his lips against my ear.  _Oh, yeah, right.  I'm doing so great right now._

Grabbing my things, I brushed past him, heading back for my station.  He hadn't moved really.  I could still feel his eyes on me.  

_Dumb jerk, I muttered.  Oh, how I wanted to smack him, to yell at him for what he was doing to me.  But that would just make things ten times worse._

"I swear I can help ya, c'mon Shirl."

I turned back to glare at him and nearly laughed instead.  He was pouting like a little kid.  Even making his lower lip tremble.  It only made him more irresistible.

I rolled my eyes and said, "If you want to help . . ."

"Yeah, yeah.  Stay out of the way," he muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

I grinned.  "No, I was going to say you can grease the pans for me."

Now I just had him confused.

"You're actually lettin' me help?  You feelin' okay?"  He stepped forward and placed his hand on my forehead, his pale green eyes locked on mine.

_Dammit!  I was just recovering from the last time, you bastard!  My voice was completely gone.  I opened my mouth wordlessly.  Oh, yeah, he won't notice that in the least._

Finally, I managed to croak, "I'm fine, but you insist on bothering me so I may as well put you to use."

He certainly didn't look convinced.  Hell, I said it and _I wasn't convinced._

Thankfully, he turned away and did as I asked.  I turned back to my biscuits and hid my reaction.

_Good Lord!  What is he doing to me?  My hands were shaking and my skin felt tight and warm.  I'd almost think I was sick but this tended to happen when I was alone with Chibodee, which I tried to make a rarity as often as I tried to make it a consistency._

"Um, Shirl?  What pans do you use?"

I turned back to see him staring at the cupboard.  Wrong cupboard of course.

I sighed and walked over.  "Do those look like pans?" I asked, pointing to the cupboard full of bowls.  I knelt down and pointed at the lower cupboards.  "Well, dear fighter, this is where the pans are.  Don't you know where anything is in here?" I asked absently as I opened the doors.

"Nah, you're the one who's always in here.  It's more important to ya anyway."  I heard him shift and glanced out the corner of my eye to see him bend near me.

"Hm . . . well, the Maxter is the most important thing to you and I still know where everything is concerning that hunk of metal."  He had better not be insinuating that women belonged in the kitchen because he'd be in for a hell of a surprise.

"It's not the most important thing," he muttered.

He said it so softly I almost didn't hear it.  When I turned to look at him he stared back.  _Did he just say what I think he said?_

He furrowed his brow suddenly and asked, "What'd I do now?"

I must have imagined it.  "Uh, nothing."  I sighed.  "You did nothing."  I reached into the cupboard and pulled out the baking sheets I needed.  I handed them to him and said, "You can grease these, right?  I can count on you not screwing _that up?"_

He grinned, taking the pans from me.  "Count on me."  He paused, watching me.

_Oh great, what is he thinking now?  I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed.  "Yes, what is it?"_

His grin returned, only a bit more sly than I was use to.  "If I don't screw up and I stay outta your way, do I get somethin' in return?"

I frowned.  "Like what?  _What is in your head right now . . . besides the usual fluff?"_

Oh, I was just being nasty now.  But, _dammit if he didn't keep me unsettled every second he was in here.  It was all I could do not to wrap my arms around him right now._

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

A tiny part of me was shrieking in indignation at the blatant bitchiness of her retort.  But at this point, I could care less.  Instead of repulsing me, her sharp words only caused my blood to burn stronger.

_God!  I want her so bad,_ I thought, cocking my head to one side and looking thoughtfully into her mesmerizing blue eyes.

I then realized that I had yet to answer her question and to my embarrassment, I could feel the tip of my ears blazing red.  I turned away, a bit flustered, and stared hard at the backing pans, as if the answer to her question would shine back at me like the little round beads of oil I had sprayed onto the slick metal.

Even though only mere seconds had lapsed since she had asked her question, they felt like hours to me.  Nervously, I licked my lips and then I knew what I wanted.  A wide smile tugged on the edges of my mouth and I looked at her in sly innocence out of the corner of my eye.

"A kiss," I accompanied my request with a playful wink.

Something flashed deep in her eyes just then – something dark and wild, almost immediately replaced by something shy and uncertain, and then, finally, her eyes closed hid their secrets from me, replaced by a benign, if not slightly skeptical smile.  I blinked.

Had I really seen in her eyes what I _thought_ I had seen?  But there was no denying the tempestuous, sapphire flash that had careened briefly before being replaced by that woeful, lost look.  I had seen that same look in the eyes of countless women before and I knew its name.

Desire.

The realization burned through every inch of my body.  I knew that if anyone walked in at that moment, they'd think me a complete fool, frozen solidly to the floor, gripping a can of cooking oil poised stupidly over the baking pans.

But what puzzled me – what kept my own libido in check – was the look that had so rapidly replaced Desire.  _That_ I hadn't seen before; I wasn't sure I had a definite name for it.

Still…I thought that, _maybe_, I knew anyway.  Was it fear?  Was it uncertainty?  Was she afraid of being used selfishly to satisfy my own wants before I left her crying on the wayside?

For the first time in my adult life, I felt remarkably ashamed for my disgustingly cavalier use of women.  Until this sudden moment, I had never looked at a woman in anyway except two ways.  Either as a surrogate mother – as I most certainly viewed Janet, Cath, and Bunny…even, to some extent, Shirley – or as a source of sexual conquest.  I was a carnal playboy, who only thought about gratifying his own lusts and desires.  If I was perfectly frank with myself, the thought of a long-term relationship had always unnerved because it required me to care about, provide for, and pleasure some one _other_ than myself.  Love was more about the mind and the soul, than the body.

_Which is why I've always gotten my 'thrills' with women who aren't looking for a relationship, or even, really, love,_ I mused reproachfully.  _I've always been too selfish to care about how a woman feels.  Not like George, or Sai, or Domon, or Argo…who know what love really means._

I must have been frowning, because Shirley suddenly reached out and tugged – _hard_ – on one of my bangs.

"Hey!  What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" she chided, a bit playfully.  "If you don't snap out of it, I won't be doling out any kisses."

I simply couldn't resist.

"So you'll give me one?" I perked up.

She shrugged magnanimously.

"Sure – though I don't know why on earth you'd want one."

I snorted and turned back to my pans.  She leaned against the counter and watched as I finished greasing.  My thought raced.

_If only she knew_, I couldn't resist sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of my eye.

The thought of tasting her sweet tongue, of feeling the warmth of her mouth, of having her hands wrapped in my hair…just _thinking_ such things drove me crazy.  I wanted so much to _taste_ her, to _feel_ her – but did she feel that same way about me?

_Probably thinks this is just another one of my games,_ I thought moodily, giving the Pam can another good shake and moving over to the last pan.  _Of course, I can't blame her for thinking that…_

Her willing acquiescence with my request puzzled me.  The more I thought about it, the more I was certain that the second look I had seen her eyes was one of fear – fear of rejection.

For the first time, I wanted to prove to her that I wasn't just thinking about myself.  That what I felt for her, now and ever since the day we had met, had been something far more profound than simple lust.  Lust, I could deal with.  Lust didn't foster respect or protective instincts.

But love did.

And for the first time, I began to really understand the depth of what I felt for Shirley.  I wanted to put that fear in her eyes to rest.  To prove to her that I _wouldn't_ just toss her aside when I got "bored."

Which made me wonder.  If I _had_ read the look in her eyes correctly; if she _was_ afraid of my rejection, then why was she suddenly being so coy?

I finished the pan and then turned toward her, trying to keep up my act, trying to figure _hers_ out.

"Well…I'm done," I waved toward the pans, neatly sitting side by side on the counter.

"Maybe you're good for something after all," she smiled wanly.

"So," I stuck my hands in my pockets – at one level, I was afraid that if I _didn't_, I'd do something I'd regret with those same hands.  "Where's my kiss?"

I grinned as I always did, to cover up my own uncertainty.  Cocky.  Confident.  It was the poker face I kept close at hand, for whatever Life dealt in my game.

Shirley pursed her lips, pushed herself off of the counter, and leaned in toward me, pressing both of her hands against my chest.

I almost groaned with pent-up desire.  Did she know what she did to me?!

So intent was I on fighting off an embarrassing arousal, that I failed to notice two, _very_ important things.  One – there was a strange, mischievous look in her blue eyes.  The second was that her right hand, instead of being splayed out flat against my shirt, was bunched up, her knuckles pressing a bit painfully into my left nipple.

But like I said, I didn't notice.  My mind was slightly preoccupied with far more _pressing_ matters…

I nearly howled in frustration when she did it again.  She stood on the tip of her toes – brushing lightly against my body with her own, which didn't help matters – and then tantalized me cruelly with her lips, hovering, warm and soft, just inches above my own.  Then, abruptly, she pulled away, giggling fiercely like a schoolgirl.

"Oh, no you don't," I growled fiercely, wrapping my one arm around her waist, my other hand pressing against the small of her back, pulling her in to me, pressing our hips tightly together.

Her eyes grew wide, but she started to laugh again and _then_ I noticed that sly, playful look dancing impishly across her face.  Nearly snarling in annoyance, I moved my hand from her back, to the back of her head, getting ready to pull her face toward mine.

I opened my mouth, determined to kiss her if it was the last thing I did.  Her hand were now, just underneath my chin; they were moving erratically and I thought that she was wringing them.  Why, I couldn't fathom, since there wasn't any fear in her eyes, but I was too far-gone down passion's way to pause and puzzle.

Her breath brushed against my cheek and I opened my mouth wider, preparing for the inevitable.  But then she pushed her head away, far enough to get her hand between our faces.  I was stopped dead in my tracks when she all but shoved something small and…chocolaty?…against my tongue.

Almost instinctively, I bit down on the foreign object – and my eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Cute, Shirl," I mumbled, biting the Hershey Kiss in half and extracting the latter part from my mouth.  "Real cute," I glared at the piece of candy in my palm, a bit moist and melted from the heat of my tongue.

"You said you wanted a kiss," if I hadn't been still holding her firmly against me, I'm convinced she would have fallen to the floor, she was laughing that hard.  "And I gave you one!"

_All right…so she wants to be cute, huh?_ my aggravation gave way to a cunning little scheme of my own.

Something in the way my spine stiffened, alerted her to my dire intentions and she stopped laughing, gazing at me warily as a smile still danced at the corners of her tempting, curving lips.

"Well, Shirl," I fairly purred, holding the half of a Kiss between forefinger and thumb, poised just in front of her sumptuous little mouth.  "I thank you for the sentiment.  But…last time I recall, kisses are to be shared, aren't they?"

 *                     *                      *                      *                      *

I don't quite know what had come over me with the chocolate trick.  I hadn't expected him to want an _actual kiss, did I?  __Sure I did.  He gets one from every other girl he meets._

But when he grabbed me, I'd nearly fainted.  His arms felt so warm, so right.  Pressed against his firm chest, I could feel his heartbeat, so intimate and real.  I might _have fainted if it hadn't been for his intense look of concentration.  I couldn't help but start laughing._

_For a game, he certainly takes this seriously.  I paused.  Was it a game?  Or was he actually seeing this as something more?_

Even now, as he held that half-melted piece of chocolate in his fingers, I searched his eyes for the charmer that he doled out to everything with legs and a heartbeat.  That cocky smile was there, no doubt.  But, was I seeing things?  Was there . . . desire?  For _me?_

God, how I wanted there to be.  Much as it would hurt to be used by him, even if it were for only one night, I'd want nothing more than to be with him.  To feel his hands run over my skin, his lips against mine.  Just once, I'd like for him to see me as more than a crewmember, or part of his _family.  I was always so jealous when I saw his new __ornament.  And each time, I hid it with a carefully placed remark or teasing comment while it burrowed into my heart, tearing at me._

Briefly, I wondered what would happen if I told him how I loved him.  Would he think it was part of our play?  Most likely.

He'd laugh it off and make some wiseass comment about being a ladykiller.

_Sure, I'm female, he's Chibodee.  Easy to see.  I'd be one more for the scorecard.  I suddenly wanted to hit him for that.  He hadn't even said or done anything to show that, but I was __certain that was what he was thinking._

My mind suddenly returned to his last comment and I grinned weakly.  "And just what are you getting at now, dear fighter?"  

I gasped as he held me tighter.

"Ah, just wantin' to give what I receive."

Before I could say anything more, he crammed the other half of the Kiss in my mouth, managing to smear most of it on my lips.  

"Chibodee!" I squealed.  _Squeal?  I never squeal.  Damn him, he's turning me into one of his bimbos.  I tried to pull out of his embrace but he only held me tighter with his one arm while he licked the rest of the chocolate from his fingers._

"Hah, hah.  You've had your fun," I began, wiping the excess chocolate from my lips.  Was it my imagination or was he watching that a little _too closely?  I shook my head inwardly and continued.  "Now, let me go so I can get back to work."_

He bent his head closer and murmured, "You missed a spot."

His eyes were more intense than I'd ever seen them.  Dangerous almost but . . . strangely gentle at the same time.  I could fall into those eyes if I let myself.  Something about that gaze made my knees tremble and my body grow warm with the desire I was trying so hard to hide from him.  _Was this how he looked at all his other women?  No wonder he has so many, I thought idly, my eyes riveted on his._

My heart was pounding painfully now.  I almost thought he could hear it if he tried.  His breath trailed across my lips and my eyelids fluttered momentarily.  _Damn, I thought weakly.  __If he only knew what this did to me.  My senses were reeling at this closeness; so lost was I that I barely noticed his hand at my waist suddenly digging in deeper to my flesh._

"What . . . what are you getting at?" I stammered.

That voice didn't even sound like mine.  It was so uncertain and frightened.  But that was exactly how I felt at the moment.  This was something I'd wanted for so long but it frightened me terribly.  He couldn't possibly feel the same way I did.

_Please don't tease me, I pleaded.  __I lied.  It would hurt too much if you did this to me._

"You always did like a neat appearance," he said softly, just before pressing his lips to mine.

I was too startled to do much more than stand there.  His lips, oh God, they were everything I'd imagined.  Soft and warm they sent sparks of electricity careening through my blood.  My body was pressed so tight against him I felt in danger of melting into his body.  Not that that was a bad thing but he'd be hard pressed to notice anything as intimate as that.  All that _this was, was one more example of his masculine prowess.  And I was gladly falling for it._

He brought his free hand up, resting it against the back of my head as he deepened the kiss.

His touch was gentler than I imagined.  I'd seen him in fights; I assumed he'd be the same way with a woman.  Forceful but playful.  This . . . this was so different.  I'd been with only a few men in my life, but none of them compared to Chibodee's soft caress.  I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

Much to my chagrin, a small whimper slipped past my mouth as he ran his hand up my back.  I could feel him smile into his kiss as he moved his hand once more, running his fingers along my side.  I whimpered again when his hand managed to trail near my breast, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body.

_I should be fighting this.  Push him back, I shouldn't be doing this.  But I just stood there, enjoying every minute of it.  I finally tried to push him away but my hands just lay there against his chest, feeling the warm panes of muscle beneath his shirt._

But when his tongue trailed against mine, I suddenly came to.  I didn't want this, not this way.  I didn't want to feel this . . . paradise and then have him act as if nothing had happened.  I loved him, I couldn't bear it.  If he had even the slightest bit of concern for me, he wouldn't be doing this.

I shoved back suddenly, getting a grunt of surprised from him.  I covered my mouth with one hand, feeling the blood rush to my face.  _What do I say?  What just happened?  Suddenly, it clicked.  "My pies.  Completely forgot."_

I spun on my heel, returning to the stove.  I made an act of opening the oven door but barely even glanced at the desserts.  "Oh, great.  They're burning," I finished lamely.  _Now what? I thought, as I pulled the pies out.  The edges were burnt but they were still salvageable.  As for the situation, good Lord, that was far from salvageable._

Lucky me; the cutting board was right by my very silent fighter.  I placed the pies on the wooden slab, keeping my eyes averted.

_Okay, what do I do?  We just kissed.  Not that big of a deal, right?  Just a little kiss.  Right, and I was the current Gundam of Gundams.  I could still feel the heat of his arms, the fire of his lips.  I nearly moaned at the absence of both.  My face reddened further, feeling like a furnace beneath my skin.  With a shaky voice I said, "Okay, you got your reward.  Now, let me finish this.  You can head back out there if you want."_

"What just happened?" he asked softly.

I shrugged, careful to keep my eyes averted as I trimmed away the black edges of the pie.  "Nothing.  Nothing happened.  You got your reward.  That's what you wanted, right?  So, you win."  _Stop asking questions you lunkhead.  I have absolutely no answers! I mentally screamed at him._

"I didn't realize this was a contest."

I glanced out the corner of my eye.  He wasn't looking my way either.  He was staring across the room but his chest was rising and falling a lot faster than it had been earlier.

Had I done that?  I suddenly felt strangely giddy.  _At least I'm not the only one reeling from this.  But for some reason, the action struck me as funny.  A smile tugged at my mouth and I titled my head, hoping to hide it._

Remembering his question, I shrugged again.  "No contest.  You managed to gain something from pestering me, that's all."  Mentally, I slapped myself.  Could I sound like more of a bitch at this moment?  _Why don't I just start screaming at him?  _

"Now, life can return to normal," inwardly I winced at the comment.  Normal?  This will never be normal, "and I can finish this Thanksgiving dinner."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

I stared at her, suddenly rendered speechless.  Just when I thought I had her, she pushed me away.

_She is afraid,_ I realized as she mumbled something about her pies burning.

My chest heaving, my body still tingling from our intimate closeness just moment before, I watched through a sort of haze as she set the pies on the cutting board.  The heady, rich aroma of cinnamon, sugar, and fragrant sweet potato filled kitchen, competing with the awakening scent of cooking turkey, and I realized that my stomach was growling.  But I also realized that food was the only thing I was hungry for.  I wanted far more than cranberry sauce and stuffing…I wanted _her_.

_But she won't have me,_ I thought bitterly, only half-listening as she rambled incoherently on, trying to cover up her fright, her confusion.  _And I don't blame her in the least.  Why should she trust me?  When have I ever been anything but a selfish playboy?_

Something said broke into my reverie and I frowned slightly.  The word "normal" caught my ear – "life can return to normal," she said.

Something fierce, indignant, irrational, and bold took over my better senses.  At that moment, I decided to toss my pride into the wind – Shirley was a new breed of woman, totally foreign to me.  But I knew this much…I'd never make her mine, unless I took a chance.

"'Normal?'" I threw her word back at her, a bit more fiercely than I intended.  "What kind of bull shit are you blathering about, Shirley?"

She glanced up from her pies, her blue eyes wide and startled.  I almost stopped there, shamed by the fright reflected in those depths, but then I remembered the desire I had seen earlier.  The memory emboldened me and I continued on.

"Do you really want things to 'return to normal?'" I softened my voice and reached out with my hand, brushing back a few stray strands of her fascinating, fiery hair out of her face.  "Do you think they can?"

Her eyes widened, her fear increasing.

"What are you talking about, Chibodee?" she demanded, her voice cracking as, I'm sure, she was struggling not to cry.

I stepped closer to her, taking her face in my hands and gently forcing her to look at me.

"Don't be afraid of me, Shirl, _please_," I begged.  "I know you think I'm just an irreverent playboy, but there's more to me than that.  I realize that now."

I paused, carefully contemplating my next move, my next words.  She continued to stare at me, dumbfounded, her pies forgotten.

On impulse, I wrapped my arms around her once more, holding her gently against me in what I hoped was a comforting embrace.  Burying my face in her hair, I breathed her scent in, hiding a soft smile.  She smelled just like the sweet potato pies cooling on the cutting board.  Spicy, warm, intoxicating, and enchantingly enticing.

"Chibodee…?" she left her question unasked as she tried to push away from me.

But I wouldn't let her.  Not again.

I tightened my grip on her shoulders and looked her in the eye, praying to whatever god was out there, that she would believe in me.

"Shirley…I'd never hurt you," I shook my head insistently.

"Why not?" she shot back, a tinge of anger in her voice, her eyes flashing.  "Why should I be any different from all the other women in your life?"

"Because…" I paused, taking a deep, steadying breath.

_It's now or never, Chibodee,_ I told myself.

It was the moment of reckoning.  I'd either win her or lose her in the space of the next seconds.  I prayed that it would be the former.

"Because…I love you."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

I stared at him, with what was probably the dumbest expression on my face.  Did he just say what I thought he did?  _Love me?  I knew I should say something; I could see the pain in his eyes, but my voice was stuck in my throat._

Hesitantly I asked, "Why?  Why me?"  I couldn't understand.  Was this to get me to give in to his advances, or was it true?  Did he really love me this way?

He brought one hand up, stroking my cheek.  My eyelids drifted shut and I leaned into his touch, wanting to feel that way forever.

He chuckled and said, "I thought you weren't supposed to ask that when someone says 'I love you.'  I thought you were supposed to say the same, or at least say thank you."

My eyes snapped open and I saw it.  The pain he was trying to hide with his usual cocky humor.  Why should he be feeling pain or fear?  _Because he's never risked himself like this.__  The women in his life never asked for more than a night or two with him._

But, could I trust him?  He'd been with so many women, what would stop him from treating me like one of them?  I idly wondered just how many he'd said those words to, just to charm them.

I glanced at his eyes again and felt my heart tighten.  There was more than his hidden pain there; there was sincerity that made his eyes shimmer, and love, real love that made his eyes deeper than anything in this world.

I suddenly understood that I wasn't the only one who stood to lose everything with this.  Chibodee was offering his heart, without ever knowing mine.  _And all this time, I was worried about being tossed aside.  He was worried about being brushed aside._

I smiled warmly, feeling tears touch my eyes.  "You're right.  Bad form on my part."  I tilted my head up, brushing my lips against his.

His arms tightened around me, but he did little else.  The rest was up to me.  I wasn't about to disappoint him.

"I do love you.  I always have."  I slipped my arms up and around his neck, pulling him closer.  _Now, it's my turn, I thought slyly as I pressed my lips to his._

Almost immediately, that same heat and passion from before filled me.  Only this time, I knew it was being felt in kind.  Instead of fearing the end of his sweet kisses, I savored each one, knowing another would take its place.  When his hands trailing along my body, I giggled into his lips; enjoying the tender touch.

He pulled back suddenly, eyeing me carefully.

I pouted, my arms still around his neck, my fingers twined in his hair.  "What is it?"  _He'd better not start getting cold feet.  I'll make him sorry he ever stepped foot in this kitchen if he even tries to backtrack._

"If I knew this is all it took to get you to act like this, I'd have said it sooner," he kissed the tip of my nose, only to pull away again, a playful grin on his face.

I narrowed my eyes.  "If you're going to be that way, I'll make you eat dinner in the garage."

My eyes widened.  "Dinner!  I still have to make the rest of it!"

His mouth captured mine again and I withered in bliss, eternally grateful to have his arms around me.  He pulled away and said, "Why don't you make them finish it."

I managed to loosen his grip and I slapped him in the chest.  "You know better than to ask me that.  This is my kitchen; my holiday; my meal."  A sly thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Dropping my voice to a husky whisper I brushed my lips against his and murmured, "But, if you're good," my lips trailed to his cheek, leaving soft, whispy touches, "and you let me finish this," I kissed his jaw and, in a rather daring move on my part, flicked his earlobe with the tip of my tongue.  The groan I got from him nearly sent me to the floor in a fit of giggles.  Through my laughter, I kissed his chin playfully and said, "If you let me finish this, and I can count on you to help at least some without acting up, then you get your pick of desserts."

The passionate haze that had settled in his eyes was rapidly replaced by a predatory gleam.  Electricity surged through my blood at the look.  _Oh, that was the wrong thing to say._

Acting fast, I clapped a hand over his mouth, keeping him in place.  With mock solemnity I said, "You have to behave or you get nothing."

His eyes narrowed and his teeth nipped at my palm.

I snatched my hand away only to have him kiss me once more, his touch soft and sweet.  Damn, if he kept this up nothing would be made.  Try explaining that to four hungry Shuffles.

"Chibodee," I murmured through his touch.  He pulled away again, watching me closely.  I smiled and tugged gently at his pink bangs, "I'm not going anywhere."


	3. Love In the End

"…I wish to take them all [laughter and tears] in."

"FRIENDS"

HOUSHIN ENGI ("SOUL HUNTER")

Sai looked remarkably disappointed that I had emerged from the kitchen unscathed and relatively triumphant.  I blissfully ignored him; he _did_ seem rather pleased to see that Shirley had sufficiently "whupped" me into carrying the platter and dishes into the dining room.  Domon and George looked relieved that I had sustained no outward bodily harm and Argo seemed…well…completely unaffected by the whole sordid affair.

The girls – who still knew nothing of the bet – worried me, because they kept giving me strange looks as I trotted to and fro from the kitchen and the dining room.  On my last trip, I kissed Shirley lightly on her forehead and wondered how the hell we were going to announce our sudden union of hearts.  The others were bound to notice that the two of us seemed unusually _happy_…and damn if it isn't near impossible to hide a budding romance from women.  I was sure that before the day was out, Rain, Cecil, or one of the girls, would trap me into a corner and bully a confession.

"So how'd it go?" Sai whispered conspiratorially as I met him in the dinning room doorway as I carried the turkey toward the table.  "Tame the beast?" he smirked a bit more smugly than I thought he had license.

"We…settled our differences," I replied evasively.

_That's not entirely untrue,_ I reasoned, eyeing Sai, who looked utterly unconvinced.  _We certainly had differences…and we certainly settled 'em._

Thankfully, the turkey saved me.  There's something about a well roasted, several pound bird to get people to flock around it.  Before I had even turned around, Argo and Domon had drifted in, with a look in their eyes that I remembered seeing in a starving dog while he tracked down his prey.  Marie Louise came in next, escorted by George, arm in arm; in less than five minutes, everyone had found their seats and was patiently waiting for the last of our party to appear.

I was about to abandon my nervous guardianship of the turkey, when she finally sailed in, carrying those two sweet potato pies in each hand.  I couldn't help but grin when I caught sight of them.

_She still hasn't told me 'bout her family_, I made a mental note to ask her later.  _An' I wanna know 'bout these Southern 'passions.'_

"…So cut the damned turkey, Bro!" Sai cut abruptly into my thoughts and I suddenly realized that I was still standing next to the turkey, carving knife in hand.

"Sai!" Cecil chided quietly, poking her fiancé in the ribs.  "Don't be rude."

"Don't worry, Cecil," I winked roguishly at her, before giving the gigantic turkey my undivided attention.  "After a year and a half, I'm used to it."

"As if _you're_ a modicum of manners," George grumbled, but I could hear the good-humored amusement in his voice.

"Watch it, French," I grumbled playfully, giving him the evil eye.  "Or ya' won't get no turkey."

"Just cut the turkey, Chibodee!" Shirley rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied sweetly, earning a variety of "looks," not least from her.

The plate nearest to me just happened to be Rain's.  I picked it up and placed the first, steaming slice onto her plate.

"_See_?" I glanced triumphantly at George.  "Ladies first – I do _so_ know how to be a gentleman."

"Wonders never cease, I suppose," Domon snickered; I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Ya' ain't got much room to talk, '_Dunce_ of Hearts.'"

"'Dunce?'" he sputtered indignantly.

"Hell, yeah!" I laughed, reaching for Marie Louise's plate.  "_You_ were the last one to realize that Rain was the only woman for ya'."

"Please, Chibodee…your language," George sighed tragically.

"I can assure you that the Princess doesn't have quite the virgin ears as you'd like to pretend," I grinned wolfishly at the Jack of Diamonds and his lady fair.

Marie Louise giggled, causing George a noticeable spasm of scandalized indignation.  The other Thanksgiving dishes were being passed around as I cut the turkey – for several minutes the room was filled with the sound of clinking silverware and murmured "thank you's."

I was finally settling down to filling my own plate – the last one that remained bare – when Shirley gave a startling squeal.

"Holy cat, Shirley!" Bunny jumped in her seat.  "What on _earth_ is your problem?"

"I got the wishbone!" Shirley announced triumphantly, waving the infamous, forked bone in the air.

"Who are you going to break it with?" Rain laughed.

Shirley got a playfully contemplative look on her face.  I had a sneaking suspicion who'd she ask, but I kept my face safely neutral while I spooned a generous helping of stuffing onto my plate.

"Well…?" Cecil giggled – I noted absently that she did that a lot.

Giggling, I mean.

"I think I'll break it with…" Shirley made a show of looking over the smiling faces around the table.  "Chibodee!" she announced her decision with great relish.

I caught a brief glance of Sai's face.  His eyebrows were arched dangerously high and there was a maddening "I-think-I-know-what's-going-on" look on his face.  I would have mentally cursed him for his meddling, but then I remembered that Shirley and I _both_ owed him big time.

"Fine with me," I wiped my hands on my napkin and stood up, reaching across the table to my right, as she held out the wishbone.

Everyone watched with great interest – too _much_ interest, I thought.

_They know something's up,_ I squirmed inwardly at the eyes I felt boring little holes in the side of my face.  _What the hell are Shirley and I gonna' say?_

With one good tug, we broke the wishbone.  Blinking stupidly, I realized that I held the long end.  I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that I hadn't gotten the wish.

"What did you wish for?" Natasha asked with uncharacteristic curiosity as Shirley sat down with an incredibly smug look.

Shirley glanced coyly at me with those maddening blue eyes of her before turning back toward Natasha.

"That Chibodee would be useful for once and help me clean up this mess," she gestured innocently toward the rapidly depleting dishes of wealth burdening the table.

I could feel my ears burning red, but I just smiled my usual, goofy grin and shrugged off the uncomfortable stares being divided between Shirley and me.  In a way, I didn't really care – for the first time in my life, I looked _forward_ to cleaning dishes.

Anything to be alone with her without causing _too_ much suspicion!

I _knew_ the others suspected something; at that moment, in fact, Sai looked like he was going to say something.  But then George smoothly directed everyone's attention down another track of conversation.  I breathed a sigh of relief  and silently thanked George for being the incurable gentleman that he was.  It could be damned annoying at times, but there _were_ moments when his sensitivity to other's feelings really saved the day.

We finished the meal without anything remarkable happening.  Shirley's sweet potato pies were especially a hit; she beamed and blushed beneath everyone's praise.  I could barely contain myself – did she have any clue how goddamned gorgeous she was when she blushed?

It was with a great amount of relief that I stacked the empty plates and bustled toward the kitchen.  Everyone got up and moved to the living room, where – to my surprise – Domon, Argo, Sai, and George were planning to watch football.  The girls were going to talk, no doubt, like every woman since Eve has done down through the ages.  And me?  I was going work dish cleaning around a little playful hanky-panky.

Or so I hoped.  I had no reason to believe otherwise; not with the sly little looks Shirley had been giving me during the entire meal.

But as I made way out of the room, Argo grabbed hold of my elbow just outside of the door and whispered in a surprisingly conspiratorially way –

"You know, Chibodee, no one's fooled."

"Fooled by what?" I gazed up at him in what I hoped was an innocent expression.

The second tallest of all of the Shuffles, I felt embarrassingly dwarfed by Argo's massive Goliath-ness.  I wasn't used to looking _up_ at someone; at this particular moment, I felt incredibly like a naughty little boy being put in his place by a scowling father.  I absently hoped that _my_ father never had eyebrows straight from hell itself.

"There's only one reason that a man agrees so willingly to clean dishes," Argo wasn't impressed by my mock stupidity.

He cocked one of his eyebrows.  I was strongly reminded of those "fuzzy bear" caterpillars I used to torment as a kid.  I would have laughed at the comparison, but I stifled my mirth.  It didn't do to laugh in Argo's face…_whatever_ the reason.

"And your point _is_…?" I still played the idiot.

"Have some class for once in your life and give us a wedding we'll all remember," Argo folded his massive arms across his equally massive chest.

I gauged the distance from where I stood and the safety of the kitchen.  Deciding that I could sprint that in three seconds flat, I grinned up at him, eyes wide.

"Wow, Argo – I think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard outta' ya'!"

He growled deep in his throat like some kind of wounded bear.  I was so intent on hightailing my ass into the kitchen that I missed the laughter twinkling deep in his eyes.  I nearly knocked Shirley over, too, in my haste.

"Whoa, boy!" she laughed, slapping me in the shoulder with her tea towel.  "What's the rush?"

"Hormones," I all but threw the dishes in the sink and grabbed her around the waist.  "My biological clock is ticking _very_ loudly."

"Well, hit the snooze button until this mess is cleaned," she disentangled herself from my arms with a snicker.

"Hmph," I sniffed, pretending to be offended by her "cold" shoulder.

She took her place at the sink, back toward me, and turned on the hot water.  In a matter of minutes, the room became unbearably stuffy.  As I waited for her finish scrubbing the grease off of the turkey pan, I peeled off my shirt and threw it on the nearby counter.

Her ears turned pink and I caught her glancing at me shyly out of the corner of her eyes.  I grinned inwardly, but refrained from saying anything.  Nothing she hadn't seen before; I didn't see why she should be embarrassed.  In any event, it was much more bearable _without_ the shirt and I leaned comfortably against the counter at her side.

"So…" I drawled, enjoying the flustered look on her face, which she tried to hide by ducking her head.  "Tell me about this Southern past of yours."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Now, why did he have to go and do that?  Not that I hadn't seen him without his shirt before, but…  Well, now it was a bit different.  All it did was make my imagination run overtime in picturing him a little less…clothing endowed.  Just the thought was making me blush.

And that only succeeded in making me even more uncertain.  Unlike Chibodee, who seemed absolutely sure of himself, I wanted all of this to be perfect.  _I suppose, that's what most women want when they find the right one._

In an effort to forget about his…diminishing attire, I answered his question.  "Nothing to it, really.  I grew up on a Quarter Horse farm in Louisiana.  I was an only child and I left for New York when I turned eighteen.  My dad still races Quarter Horses and I get a letter from him and my mother about once a month.  Does that satisfy you?"

He pushed off from the counter and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my temple.  "Nah.  But I think I know something that will."

I closed my eyes for a moment as his lips headed southward.  This was too nice.  I jerked away when his fingers began to tug at the straps of my tank top.

I swatted him playfully and admonished him.  "A kitchen is not the place for that."

"Oh?  And where is?"  His eyes had a mix of passion and that same dangerous gleam I'd seen earlier.

A sudden thought tugged at my mind.  A naughty one, but it would suffice.  "Well, when I was younger, our barn was quite the cozy place."  
His eyes widened.  "The ol' 'roll in the hay?'  You actually did that?"

I pouted.  "It's not like we had hotels right outside our house.  When you own a horse ranch you tend to be quite a way from everything else."

Having to explain it to him was certainly taking the romance out of it.  Or so I thought.

His kiss surprised me.  It was far hungrier than what I'd experienced earlier and…oh, hell, _much_ better.  Apparently, he _liked_ the concept of a 'roll in the hay.'  Then again, he was a city boy, so it wasn't likely he'd ever experienced it that way.  His arms tightened around me and I responded in kind, feeling a little thrill at running my fingers over his naked back.

_So this is what it's like to be on the receiving end of his passion?_  As truthful as it sounded, I couldn't help but feel that I was getting more than any other woman had before.  After all, I had his heart now, didn't I?

He broke off the kiss, leaving us both breathless.  He grinned and said, "I knew you were a sneaky fox.  Just didn't know how much of one."

I pulled free of his arms, determined to play this out.  I frowned at him and said, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were questioning my womanly values."

I ducked my head slightly, hiding my smile at his answering growl.  I wonder what he would do if he knew how much I loved that sound?

"I was not.  I was…complimenting you," he said weakly.

His look of confusion, irritation, and lust was burning through my blood.  It was suddenly much warmer in here and it had nothing to do with the steam that was still hovering in the air.

Feigning indignation, I folded my arms over my chest and turned around.  "By calling me sneaky?  Well, that's no way to a woman, Chibodee."

I managed to turn back around about halfway, before he had his arms around me again.

His voice was husky when he spoke and it nearly robbed me of my knees.  "All I mean is that I suddenly wish this place came with a barn.  I wouldn't mind a little taste of _that_ Southern comfort."

"Hey now, I'm not easy," I muttered feebly as his lips trailed to the hollow of my shoulder.  "I was a girl then.  It was…" I gasped as his teeth nipped my flesh, "…a rite of passage."

Never in my life had I felt anything as blissfully wonderful as the touch of this man.  I could only imagine what else he was capable of and just the thought made my body shiver, and grow warm.

"Rite of passage?" he murmured.  "Well, we'll have to come up with a new one for ya'.  Now that you're gonna be with me."

_'With me.'_  Everything I needed was in those two words.  And oddly enough, I could hear all his love and passion in that short space of time.

I sighed, leaning into him as he brought his hands around, resting on my bare stomach.  _Damn tank top – keeps riding up.  I may have to get rid of that._  I giggled aloud at my sudden, lurid thoughts.

"What now?" he asked, craning his head to look at me.

I grinned, kissing him playfully.  "I think I've been around you too long."  I spun in his arms, wrapping mine around his neck.  "I suddenly had a naughty thought."

"Oh?  Care to tell?"

I gave him what I hoped was a seductive smile and purred, "But if I told you, that would ruin the surprise."

He growled again and lifted me up onto the counter, causing me to gasp.  Placing his hands on either side of my legs, he said in exasperation, "If you keep trying to surprise me, I'm gonna die from the suspense."

I wrapped my legs around his waist and cupped his face in my hands.  "Well, they always say the best way to die is with a smile on your face."

"The longer I'm around you, the more likely that's gonna happen," he said with a low chuckle.  His lips pressed against mine softly as he pulled me closer.

I broke the kiss off first, lacing my fingers through his dark hair.  "I hate to end this, but what are we going to tell the others?"

He placed his hands on my hips and kissed me again.  "Well, we can just tell 'em I finally made an honest woman of ya'."

I bit my lip as his mouth brushed the hollow of my throat.  "I think you have that backwards," I murmured.

He paused, giving me an innocent look.  "But, I've always been honest.  It's you who kept your past a secret."

"Did you ever ask me?" I questioned playfully.

"Feh.  Semantics."

Laughing, I said, "Semantics or not, we have to tell them something."

"'Bout time.  You could be a bit more discreet, though."

I stiffened and turned, nearly slipping off of the counter top.

Sai was grinning knowingly at the both of us.

I hadn't even heard the little sneak come in.  "Sai!  How long have you been here?" I demanded.  I glared at Chibodee when he chuckled at my outburst.

Sai winked and said, "Long enough.  Just, get a room before you do too much more."  Still grinning, he slipped back through the swinging kitchen doors.

"There ya' go.  Sai will tell 'em."  Chibodee was grinning as he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear.

I frowned at him, but it slipped into a grudging smile.  "Well, I suppose that will work for now.  Though, coming from Sai, it might not sound as serious."

Inwardly, I winced.  _And it means I have a lot of explaining to do to the girls._

Chibodee pressed his hand against my cheek, stroking my skin with his thumb.  "It is serious.  I know it and you know it.  As far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters."

"You have a point," I murmured.  Seeing the love in his eyes was all I needed as well.  Everyone would know soon enough; for now, I had him and that was all I wanted.

Feeling mischievous, I bent my head lower, running my tongue against his lips.  "I think, though, we should take his advice.  After all, I made you a promise and you did behave tonight.  And…" I repeated the action, giggling at his barely suppressed groan, "a Southern girl always keeps her promise."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Damn!  Do they ever!  It was all I could do, not to pick Shirley up then and there, and carry her up to the privacy of my room.  But, it _was_ Thanksgiving and the other Shuffles _had_ come from all corners of Earth and Colonies, and passion or no, it would have been rude to sneak off.

So I satisfied myself my burying my face in her neck one last time, breathing in her warm, spicy scent.  To this day, I always associate sweet potato pie with her – my Southern 'belle.'

"One more kiss?" I gave her a sly wink, to let her know that I wouldn't forget her 'promise.'

I thought she'd say "yes," but the cunning little vixen only shook her head, her lips pursed, her eyes shining mischievously.  I pouted momentarily, but then she slid off of the counter and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"That'll come later," she whispered seductively in my ear, causing little shivers of delight to roll up and down my spine.

Then she moved away, picked up my discarded shirt, and threw it at my chest.

"Now, get dressed!" she almost laughed, despite her best efforts to appear stern and unrelenting.

"Yes, ma'am," I winked, grinning.  "_You_ can take it off next time."

Her ears turned a bright red; with cheeks flaming, she sputtered something that I couldn't catch and then turned quickly on her heel.  Flustered, she exited the kitchen with no small amount of haste.  I was busting a gut trying not to laugh.  She embarrassed so easily – I didn't really understand it, but I knew one thing.  I loved it when she blushed.

When I finally gathered enough gall to show my face in the living room, I was pleasantly surprised.  No one seemed to notice that anything was "amiss."  Sai sat on the corner of one of the couches with a knowing little smirk in his eyes, but apparently, he hadn't told a soul.  Shirley was over with the other women, who were all gathered around, talking to each other and keeping a furtive watch on their respective men.

I was a little puzzled.  I was sure as hell that Sai would spill the beans on us, but he clearly hadn't.  No one crowded around us, asking a million questions and demanding to know what had caused the change in attitudes between Shirley and me.  I sat down on the couch beside the little runt and whispered during one of the commercial breaks –

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Sai looked supremely proud of himself.

"There's no need to," he replied quietly.  "The two of you can't hide it forever.  In fact, I bet that it all comes out tomorrow."

I nearly groaned in despair – he was right.  Tomorrow, all of the women were hitting the malls, trying to get one up on the Christmas rush with all those, after-Thanksgiving discount sales.  Fortunately for us guys, we weren't asked to come.  In fact, we were practically forbidden.

We four were planning to just hang out and do whatever.  But I was certain that Domon and George would want details – and Sai would be sure to fill in should I refuse to tell.  As for Argo…I sneaked a glance over at him.  Who could tell whether he would talk or keep his usual silence?  His admonition earlier had certainly taken me by surprise.  I had a sinking suspicion that he had more such "surprises" up his stoic sleeve.

The night went well enough.  Shirley and I weren't mobbed for the answers to embarrassingly personal questions; no one seemed to notice.  We kept a discreet distance, satisfying ourselves for the time being, with the occasionally shared glance.

Around 10:30, the beer came out – or, well, actually the sake, vodka, and wine came out.  I was the only one who really drank any beer and I only drank two.  And only those two, because I wanted to avoid arousing undue curiosity.  None of us really got drunk, but we expressed great amazement at Argo's almost super-human ability to down glass after glass of vodka like it was nothing more consequential than water.

Of course, a big guy like him would have a better alcohol tolerance than the rest of us combined.  But we were still amazed.  We all had a good laugh, too, at Sai's expense, when he – insatiably curious little bugger that he is – decided that he wanted to try a shot of vodka himself.

An outside observer would have thought he had been poisoned!  He gagged, sputtered, and contorted his face into expressions that the human visage simply has no earthly right to be twisting itself into.  It was damn hilarious.

"God damn!" he squeaked afterwards, eyes big and watering.  "That shit's _got _to burn the whole way through!"

Argo gave him a look as if to say, "how do you know that it doesn't," before throwing his head back and swallowing another healthy shot.  Then he smacked his lips and eyed Sai with something suspiciously akin to amusement.

I almost thought he was going to say something, but, in true Argo fashion, he kept his jaws tightly clamped.

As the evening wore on, the glances I directed toward Shirley became less and less frequent.  It wasn't that I was trying to avoid her…well, okay.  So I was.  But not for the reasons one would think.  I was avoiding her look because it was becoming harder and harder for me to suppress my feelings.  The more I looked at her, the more I just wanted to stand up, sweep her up in my arms, and carry her away.

She noticed, of course.  What woman wouldn't?  But she seemed to understand my predicament and each time I risked a glance in her direction, her expression became craftier.

By ones and twos, the Shuffles and the girls began to leave for their respective bedrooms.  George was the last to leave – at one point, I wanted to just whack him over the head and drag him off by the ends of his long, impossibly perfect red hair.

_Shouldn't think about red hair,_ I admonished myself when I found myself eying George's hair very intently.

Not to mention that I suddenly incredibly silly, ogling at a fellow fighter's hair.

Finally, thankfully, George had had enough and he drifted off to his room and – I hoped – to sleep.  For about five minutes after he left, I slouched on the couch, staring intently at the TV, wondering what Shirley was up to.

_Where the hell is she?_

I knew the answer to that, though.  She was standing behind me – I could feel her eyes boring through the back of my head.

Just when I thought I couldn't take the suspense any more, she trotted into my line of vision.  My jaw dropped.

She had taken off her tank top.

For some odd reason, my mouth suddenly became quite dry.  I couldn't speak.  I could I only stare at her, as she pranced up to me, that same look of desire smoldering in her gorgeous eyes.  Furthering my shock, she sat brazenly in my lap, her legs straddling mine as she bent in for a kiss.

It was long, slow, and thoroughly arousing.  My hand drifted lightly across her back, pausing only to toy with her bra strap.  Even in the middle of a kiss, I grinned – I wasn't going to undue it, not yet.  But I played with it, teasing her with the hope that I _would_ take it off.

"Chibodee…" she cooed into my ear, breaking off the kiss and tugging on the bottom of my shirt.

"Shh," I tapped her lips with my finger, shivering with delight as she ran her hands up my chest.  "I already know."

A quizzical look crossed her eyes and she stopped, her palms pressed flat against my shoulders.  She looked at me, as if to say, "know what?"

I sighed deeply – god, I could die like this.  This had turned out to be one hell of a Thanksgiving – everything I could think of to be thankful for, was sitting my lap.

I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her against me as I buried my face in her neck.  Nuzzling her ear, I whispered softly, with all the meaning I could muster –

"I love you, too, Shirley."


	4. Authors' Notes

"I've always searched those same eyes, those same dreams, my friend.  Those tears of the past and laughter that will come – I wish to take them all in."

"FRIENDS"

SOUL HUNTER

Hey, ya'll!  Glad to see that you've all enjoyed "Sweet Potato Pie" so much.  ^_^  That really boots our ego, let me tell ya'!

All right…there's just one thing I want to address about this last chapter.  I know some of you may be a bit disappointed that **Sora** and I didn't describe the reactions of the others when they learn about Chibodee and Shirley.  Blame that totally on me.  *shrugs*  As you know, **Sora** and I swap POVs/parts, and I think she was expecting me (as Chibodee) to address that in the ending section.  But I decided against it.

Simply, because I think, for the purpose that this _short_ story was intended, it's not necessary to go into great detail about the various reactions.  This story was intended to be short and only focus on Shirley and Chibodee (which is one of the reasons that we decided to write in 1st person).  Plus, I think that you – our readers – can have your own, differing versions of what "happened next."  *grins*  There's no need to overdue a story; it's always best to let the reader's imagination run wild and free.  *laughs*  -_^  The best stories, _I_ find, always leave a little left unsaid.  :)

Now…here's what you all can expect from us in the future.  A lot of you have been leaving pairing hopefuls behind in your reviews.  Here's the definite roster:

Next up – Allenby/we're-not-telling  *laughs*  You'll have to find out who we pair her with when you read the story (and a lot of you are going to be pulling your hair out…it's going to be a prolonged torture/guessing game!  ^_^)  The holiday:  Hallowe'en – in Edinburgh (the most haunted city in Europe, some would say!  -_^).  And yes – we DO pair her with a cannon character – no OCs in any of our little love fics.  *chuckles*  So…keep a look out for "Love By Numbers" – the next installment of our little series that's being worked on, even as you read!  ^_^

The rest are as follows, in no particular order.  They include the pairing, the holiday, and the title.

_Domon/Rain_ – Valentine's Day ("Queen of Hearts")

_Sai/Cecil_ – Chinese New Year ("Year of the Dragon")

_George/Marie Louise_ – Easter (don't know the title yet, but something about roses – you're free to suggest)

_Argo/Natasha_ – Christmas (title-less as of right now, but it'll have something do w/ "Joker" – you're free to suggest)

And I'm even toying w/ an Andrew Graham fic, but I haven't quite decided who's left to pair him with.  Probably one of Chibodee's girls…Bunny, perhaps?  Wouldn't that be a hoot?  ^_^  (So shoot me – I like Canadians and I like Andrew.)

Of course, a NATASHA and Andrew pairing would be interesting…but me thinks that wouldn't be good.  Andrew's life would probably be in jeopardy (after all, Argo has beaten him up once, hasn't he?  That's enough, you ask me) and I think we'd get so many flames our review section would begin to look like a sacrificial alter.  O.o  Better send that idea back to whatever twisted, hellish depths it came from…

Don't expect any Kyral pairings, either.  *shudders*  I like the guy and all, but that would just be _tooo_ disturbing.  And I'd love to do a Schwartz pairing, but that would probably be nigh impossible to pull off, since he dies at the end of the series and he was never "real" to begin w/.  Poot.  And we'd probably have to pair him w/ an OC if we ever hoped to do it.  Not a good idea…

Whee!  I'm rambling.  What's new?  Okay…so you're all tired of reading my warped little thoughts and **Sora's** probably convinced that I've finally gone off my rocker.

Well…there you have it, folks!  The official end of "Sweet Potato Pie."  Thanks _sooo_ much for reading and reviewing.  ^_^  Even if you read w/out reviewing, we thank you all the same.  We're glad you enjoyed and please keep an eye out for our next joint venture!

            ~**Sora** / **Athena Masterson**


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